


Embraceable You

by wyntre



Series: Bright Star, Would I Were Steadfast As Thou Art [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Post-Almost Apocalypse (Good Omens), Soft Aziraphale (Good Omens), Soft Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-31 04:46:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19418767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyntre/pseuds/wyntre
Summary: Idiots in love, for six thousand years.orFive times Crowley cuddled Aziraphale(and one time Aziraphale cuddled Crowley)





	Embraceable You

**Author's Note:**

> I was having a bad mental health week (story of my life lmao) so I rewatched the Ineffable Husbands and wrote this as a way of coping.
> 
> I hope it helps at least one other person.
> 
> Look after yourselves <3
> 
> it's just fluff guys!

**One**

Crowley didn't really sleep. Like most supernatural entities, he didn't have to unless he was angry, frustrated, or bored. Now that he and Aziraphale had averted the Apocalypse, he found himself napping more and more. Not much else to do. It helped, he thought, that Aziraphale had taken to inviting him to the bookshop for cocoa (something Crowley still wasn't particularly interested in) and reading sessions. The angel would instinctively know what book to give Crowley, and then they would settle onto the soft bed Aziraphale kept tucked away in a hidden corner, with books and cocoa; the only thing disrupting the silence the turning of pages.    
One night, Crowley glanced up from the copy of  _ Dracula  _ he was reading for the fourth time, and noticed Aziraphale had sunk deep into the mattress, and was snoring softly. The demon placed his book aside and surveyed the sleeping figure next to him. A powerful urge overcame him and he slipped in behind Aziraphale, curling protectively around the dozing angel.    
A little nap couldn't hurt.

* * *

**Two**

**** It was cold, and wet, and a generally unpleasant day all things considered. Crowley stirred a little in his sleep, rolling over in the large, black framed, hyper-modern bed that sat flanked by two large potted ferns in the middle of an otherwise empty bedroom. His fingers brushed the being next to him, soft flank giving way to gentle pressure. Without waking, he pulled Aziraphale towards him; tucking the angel under his chin and unfurling his vast black wings to shelter them both from everything Heaven and Hell could throw at them. Aziraphale, for his part, was awake, he had been for several hours after they’d fallen asleep after too much wine; and he smiled serenely as he felt the warmth of Crowley’s long body pressed into his back.   
Outside, the rain fell and the world went on, much as it always had.   


* * *

**Three**

**** “I thought I’d lost you.” The words came tumbling out of Aziraphale’s mouth before he could stop himself. “I thought, I thought…”   
Crowley pulled the trembling angel into his chest. The bookshop was empty, having closed hours before. They’d been drinking, celebrating the aversion of the Apocalypse and Aziraphale was more emotional than Crowley had ever seen him.    
“Angel,” Crowley said softly, rubbing gentle circles on Aziraphale’s back, over the sensitive spot where he knew the base of his wings met his spine. “You’ve been stuck with me since Eden, where else am I gonna go?”   
They shifted, lying close together the antique sofa; Crowley making sure to hold Aziraphale as tightly as possible.   
“I promise, I’m still here.”

* * *

**Four**

**** The picnic had been Aziraphale’s idea, all those decades ago in the front seat of Crowley’s Bentley. It hadn’t happened, until today. Crowley arrived at the bookshop, brandishing a wicker basket and loudly announcing they were taking a trip to Swinbrook, that despite what nonsense the weather people had spouted it was going to be a beautiful day; and no, there was nothing Aziraphale could do to stop the picnic happening.    
They lay on the grass, gazing up at the fantastically blue sky, and Aziraphale put his hand out to feel for Crowley’s on the blanket.    
“Do you realise, I would have gone through eternity half awake if you’d just left me alone?”   
Crowley said nothing, simply pulled Aziraphale closer and wrapped his arms and heavy black wings about them both. Aziraphale found he fit quite comfortably in the demon’s arms, locking together like two pieces of a puzzle.    


* * *

** **Five** **

There was a knock on his door, and Crowley glanced up from the astronomy magazine he was poring over. He wasn’t expecting visitors, so he picked up the spritzer bottle of holy water he kept on the table for emergencies. Aiming it like a gun, he cautiously picked his way across the lounge room, before yelling “who is it?” 

“It’s me, my dear,” the familiar sound of Aziraphale’s gentle voice called back from the other side of the door. Crowley released a breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding and opened the door.    
The angel stood on his doorstep, looking for all the world like he carried the weight of eternity on his rounded shoulders.    
“Aziraphale, I wasn’t expecting you.” Crowley stood aside and let Aziraphale in, closing the door and placing the spray bottle on the sideboard.    
The concern in Crowley’s voice was palpable, and Aziraphale instantly regretted arriving unannounced.    
“I should go.”   
Crowley peered at him through serpentine eyes, face soft with worry. “You never come over without telling me, something is bothering you.” He took Aziraphale’s hand and walked through to the sparse lounge room.    
“I love you.” The words were out of Aziraphale’s mouth before he could stop them. “I’m in love with you. I think I always have been.”   
“Oh, angel…” Crowley put his arms around Aziraphale and did not let go.

* * *

**\+ One**

_ Shut your stupid mouth and die already. _ __  
The harsh, angry words bounced around Crowley’s skull for days after the trial with Heaven. But instead of being concerned about his own safety, he found himself spending countless hours thinking about what would have happened if Aziraphale, wearing his face and bathing in holy water in the depths of Hell had been found out.    
How Lord Beelzebub would have summoned Hellfire and torn his angel limb from limb.   
What would have happened if Gabriel had discovered their ruse and summoned Aziraphale to the Judgement Hall of Heaven.    
A world without Aziraphale, without his light, that would not be a world Crowley could abide. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to survive without the angel.   
But Crowley was Bad at Feelings, he always had been. So when he found himself snapping his fingers to open the door to the overcrowded, and now restored bookshop, he didn’t know what to say or how to say it. Aziraphale looked up from  _ Maurice  _ as soon as Crowley entered.    
“Crowley? My dear, whatever is the matter?” He stood, crossed the room in an instant and gathered Crowley into a bone-crushing hug.   
“Ikeepthinkingaboutwhattheymightdotoyou.” The words were muffled by Aziraphale’s shoulder but he heard them all the same. He guided them gently to the nearby sofa, pressing a soft kiss into Crowley’s hair.    
“I’m not sure what I would have done if they’d worked out that you were me.”   
Aziraphale hummed and pulled Crowley in closer. “I thought the same thing, for the whole time I was in Hell; all I could think about was you, facing Hellfire for me. Facing Gabriel for me.”   
“Angel, I…” Crowley paused. “I’m not sure what I would have done had I lost you.” _ I don’t think I would have survived. _ __  
“I’m here, Crowley, my dear. I always have been. I always will be.”   
Aziraphale was soft, warm, and Crowley could feel every inch; every gentle slope and curve. They stayed like that, on the sofa, Crowley curled into Aziraphale feeling for all the world that he was safe, for a moment that seemed to stretch into infinity. And Crowley knew then, that he was home. He had his angel, and that was what mattered.    
  


* * *


End file.
